


A Common Reel

by lelianasong



Series: Commoner AU [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Commoner AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lelianasong/pseuds/lelianasong
Summary: What if the Inquisitor was a servant before the Conclave?Never having learnt to dance anything like Leliana expects her to at Halamshiral, the Inquisitor demonstrates how 'her sort' dance.





	A Common Reel

Preparation for this stupid ball was going to be the absolute death of her. 

 

Watching Leliana twirl around the floor in Dorian’s arms like she was born to it was making Eliza slightly self conscious. She had never been so lucky as to learn how to dance like her Mistress. The only dances she knew were those performed to music being hammered out on the table and strung on a dusty fiddle, spinning and jumping and laughing, taking moments out of a hectic day to feel free, like children again. Eliza had never had to wear these heels, either. Walking in them was challenging enough, let alone having to perform numerous moves flawlessly, all the while remembering to keep a neutral expression and work out the correct thing to say to your partner. She really didn’t understand how Leliana, Josephine, and Vivienne managed it.

 

Eliza tugged at her sleeves, stomach flipping as she realised she would most definitely made a fool of herself at Halamshiral. 

 

“You look about as uncomfortable as I feel,” Cullen muttered. She flashed him a reassuring smile.

 

“No doubt everything will turn out alright in the end, Leliana and Josephine will make work of that. What worries me is that my dancing ability could kill us all.” She said, not entirely joking. Cullen laughed all the same, relieving some of the tension in her body.

 

“The Great Game is vicious, true, but not that vicious. Besides, you’ll be too busy sneaking about trying to discover the assassin’s identity to worry about dancing any volta’s.” He said softly. 

 

“Will you be dancing, Commander?” Eliza asked with a smile, feeling her heart thump against her ribcage. 

 

“Oh, me?” Cullen frowned. “I… attempt to avoid dancing at every cost. I’m dreadful at it, to put it lightly. Nobody wants to see that.”

 

“I think I would,” Eliza said, trying to convey normality in her words, and not an indication that she herself wouldn’t mind dancing so much if the Commander had his arms around her. But before he had time to reply, the music had ended, and Leliana was approaching her.

 

“I love the thrill of a waltz. The speed of it, the passion. Reminds me of my days as a bard.” She said fondly. 

 

“You were amazing!” Eliza grinned. “And you too, Dorian.”

 

“Quite,” The Tevinter smiled at her sweetly, “Though of course, I am flawless in everything I do.”

 

“Naturally.” Eliza smiled back. 

 

“Will you dance now, Inquisitor?” Leliana asked. “You have not done so yet, and I do wish to see how far your abilities stretch.”

 

“I’m, uh, afraid you’ll be disappointed.” Eliza looked awkwardly at the ground. “I don’t know how to dance.” 

 

“None? I find that hard to believe. Even those from humble beginnings are taught to dance to some degree. You must know a tavern dance, at least?”

 

“Tavern dances aren’t waltzes.” Eliza shook her head. “I don’t want to embarrass myself today, thank you.” 

 

“Oh, that’s a pity!” Dorian sighed. “I so wished to show off my exquisite dance moves more this afternoon. But I understand. I myself know only the basics of swordplay, and would hate to perform it in front of a room of Chevaliers.”

 

“Thank you,” Eliza smiled in relief. “Uh, another time, definitely, Leliana.”

 

With that, she nodded in farewell and swiftly left the room. 

  
  


That evening, after finishing signing everything Josephine had read and left on her desk for her, Eliza found herself three drinks deep into conversation with her friends in the Herald’s Rest. 

 

“And then she just left!” Dorian slurred, wine (which he had brought from his room) spilling from his glass as he spoke. “Without even offering her dearest friend a dance!”

 

“How awful of me.” Eliza grinned. “Next time, we’ll show everyone up.”

 

“Next time eh? You mean you’d be willing to walk in those heels Nightingale gave you again?” Varric chuckled. “I’m sorry to say, Inquisitor, watching you try those babies out was the highlight of my entire week.”

 

“I’d like to see you try walking on four inch twigs.” Eliza shot back, making Varric laugh.

 

“Fair point. Though I bet they’d make my legs look amazing.” He waggled his eyebrows.

 

“Nothing wrong with not knowing how to dance,” Bull said through a mouthful of ham. “I’m a shit dancer. The trick is to act like you know what you’re doing.”

 

“That might be hard when I’m in the middle of a huge ballroom being watched by thousands who know exactly what they’re doing.” Eliza countered, swigging from her own drink. “A jig or a reel isn’t gonna help me win approval.”

 

“You can dance a reel?” Sera spoke up from her corner, where she’d been constructing miniature catapults out of tiny sticks. “‘Cor, I love a reel! Used to do ‘em all the time in Denerim in the tavern!”

 

“It’s the only dance I can do, and it’s the most commoner-y one there is.” Eliza heaved a drunken sigh. “Leliana would be so disappointed.”

 

“Alas, I myself have never had the pleasure of such a dance.” Dorian placed his glass down and stood, extending a hand to Eliza. “Dearest Inquisitor, would you ever so kindly teach a poor Tevinter mage the delights of a Ferelden reel?”

 

Eliza flushed red from her cheeks to her neck. “In front of the entire tavern?”

 

“Where better to demonstrate your skill?” Dorian smiled reassuringly. Eliza inhaled deeply, putting her own drink down and taking Dorian’s hand, to the cheering of their companions. The tavern was fairly empty, so there was plenty of room on the tavern floor for her to embarrass herself. “My dear Maryden, would you be so kind as to play us a reel?” 

 

The bard smiled brightly, nodding at Dorian with enthusiasm. She set aside her lute and picked up a fiddle, one much cleaner than those Eliza remembered from her days as a servant. 

 

“Now I am only a beginner, so please don’t judge me too harshly.” Dorian announced to the various eyes looking over in interest. The patrons laughed jovially, spinning in their seats to watch their Herald dance. 

 

“A reel isn’t difficult, it’s mostly just spinning and jumping. The important bit is remembering to enjoy yourself.” Eliza grinned, feeling all of a sudden like her old self. “Copy me.”

 

It was easy getting into things, having danced this dance many times before. Dorian was a fast learner, too, and was taking to the steps and twirls in time with Maryden’s music like a natural. 

 

“You’re too good at this!” Eliza called over the fiddle, crossing her hands to take Dorian’s and spin them in a circle.

  
“This is  _ so _ much more entertaining than a dull old waltz!” He responded, wearing the biggest grin Eliza had ever seen. “Everyone else seem to agree!”   
  


Indeed, as the pair had progressed in their movements around the room, other patrons of the tavern, including Sera, had taken their places around them, forming circles of held hands, and duets of linked elbows. Laughter and joyful cries filled the air, and even people from outside had come in to see what all the noise was about. Eliza was dancing with people she had never spoken to before, never had the chance; linking elbows with soldiers and being lifted and spun by kitchen workers. This was the life she was used to, and she was reveling in it. Her hair had fallen from it’s bun and was flowing freely down her back, and the plain old boots on her feet were allowing her much more freedom than those stupid high heels. She felt like her old self again, spinning and laughing with her fellow servants, and not someone who held the balance of the world on her scrawny shoulders. 

 

The song Maryden was playing was coming to an end, and Eliza found herself back in Dorian’s arms for the finale. 

 

“Big finish!” She called to him, taking a step back to jump into his arms. He caught her with a laugh, spinning her around in the air, then setting her down on the ground and stepping back into a deep bow. Eliza curseyed low, and suddenly the entire tavern, much more packed than it had been previously, erupted into cheers, Eliza included. She clapped her hands and laughed louder than she had done in weeks, pulling Dorian into a tight embrace. A scrawny pair of arms encircled around her waist, and Sera’s voice, muffled by Eliza’s dress, spoke;

 

“That was bloody brilliant! Our dear Inky is a commoner, and we love it!” 

 

Eliza’s heart soared in realisation. She had just danced with people who could see her as an equal, not some Lady or a Knight who had never known a true days work, but a leader who understood their efforts and loved them for it.

 

The trio made their way back to their seats, falling back down, hearts still full. 

 

“I’ve never been more attracted to you, Boss,” Bull said, eyes wide. Eliza winked back, resuming her drink. 

 

“Inquisitor of the people, indeed.” Varric chuckled. “Nobody will be forgetting tonight any time soon.” 

 

“I might,” Dorian slurred. “Though I hope I don’t. Not now that I have realised my true dancing potential.” 


End file.
